Satoshi Iwai
OUR MEMORY
Day by day, my eyesight is getting worse. I can’t distinguish a florist’s from a barber’s. Both look just a shop. I can’t distinguish a rose from a tulip. Both look just a flower. When I grab a flower which I suppose it is a tulip, its thorns sting my fingers.
I come home and stand in front of the bathroom mirror. You are there. I am standing alone in my bathroom, and you are standing alone in my mirror. You are naked, skinny, and look older than I. When you open your mouth, I smell the smell of rose and blood.
In my memories, I can’t distinguish you from me. When I remember my life, you are there instead of me. My past joy and happiness are becoming yours. You gaze at me, just standing in front of me and inside me. Petal by petal, my white rose falls down.
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